


Follow

by Qtya



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: i dunno, some angst maybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 09:59:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qtya/pseuds/Qtya
Summary: Follow the dream





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am anxious.  
> Sometimes you just have to write, right?
> 
> I don't know for sure, but sometimes you wake up with a certain...urge to keep doing sg you did in your dream, or search for the palce you saw there, etc, without a chance to explain this to anyone, even yourself. There is just no logic in it. Just the feeling. Without a proper name. 
> 
> Well, me feeling strange and remembering this and musing....and this fic is the result. 
> 
> Sorry it's not anything so exciting like my other thing here. 
> 
> It's mostly about nothing.

He was standing so close to the edge....Bright, wonderful, other-wordy sunrise in front of him. He wasn't afraid of the depth at his feet. He stared at the sky, drinking up the sight, loving it. Loving it. Truly.  
His heart hadn't been so....weightless and fulfilled at the same time - ever before, through his whole life.  
The colours were so beautiful. Perfect, not missing....anything.  
It was full. This moment of existence was...just flawless. 

He stepped closer. 

~~*~~

Jason woke up with a horrified gasp, wide eyes looking around in the room, searching for...mostly an answer.  
'I...I did it. Why the Hell I did it???' He couldn't get rid of the last little memory. The feeling...  
He slowly lied back, buried himself in his blankets and curled into a ball.  
The dream had been the best thing which had happened to him in the last....Okay....Let's just not start thinking about time....at all.  
But that fucking dream called out for his soul, he felt pain for that edge and that sky. 

He had fallen...he had been finished in it – by himself, fuck, fuck, fuck....! It didn't make any sense to feel a cruel ache for a messed up dream. 

He was Jason Todd! He never did anything like this! He was...in control of himself, of his life. That was the thing he was so good at. Among many other things.  
But for sure: he didn't weep for silly nothings.  
Like dreams.  
Especially not suicidal ones. 

Fuck it. 

*~*~*

The dream came back.

Every damn night. 

And he ached for it. Hated waking up. Every night hoped -begged- for more time before....that step. That small, yet...somehow so heartbreaking step.

Something about that step, how calmly he did every night, truly bothered him. 

*~*~*

Three months later Jason made a decision.  
It wasn't because of the dream. 

And every other thing which had happened, which had made „his family” worry, which had scraed him from time to time, all that had got nothing to do with his dream.

No. 

He almost had gone back to killing. Yes. But not because of the dream. Or exhaustion. Or his mind slowly slipping away – as Tim had said one night, with fear on his face. Even with half of it being covered, Jason had seen the fear, and that had changed something in him.  
First, because when Tim freaked out, you had to start thinking.  
Second, because it had worried him that he hadn't been able to tell which fear he had seen: fear for himself...or fear of himself...  
Third: deep down he had known that putting the problem aside would not work til his dying day (hopefully a distant thing in the future)...

For one week he had disappeared rom the streets.  
Now he was ready.

He was leaving Gotham behind. 

 

Yesterday he finally had found it. His search had been mostly for...fighting against his own terror of thinking: probably madness had wanted him back.  
It had surprised him beyond his limits. This couldn't have been or shouldn't have been true.  
Still.....It was.  
The edge existed. Three days and he would be there. 

He didn't let himself think much about the fear in his gut. 

He didn't let himself think about a change.

The dream had changed. It had happened just during yesterday's night. 

He had been standing on the edge.  
And a voice from behind called out to him. 

Asking a question. 

*~*~*

He stopped his bike and turned his head back. Just one last glance. 

He could barely see Gotham in the distance. It was a good decision to not let himself have any goodbyes, just this one last glance. And only from this far. 

He just...couldn't think about any versions where he could have gotten out of it nicely. Explain this to Bruce? Dick? Steph?  
They wouldn't have been able to stop themselves from throwing him straight to Arkham.  
Or lying? Tim, Cass, Alfred....they would have seen it. And wouldn't have been able to let him leave ever. 

Somehow it felt wrong now. 

But he had to go. 

The dream was calling.


	2. The road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts

'Driving is meditation'

Jason was absolutely sure about this.   
  
  


Because....yeah, just think about it! At first, you feel a small, pleasant excitement: you and moving! Together. Perfectly. Like lovers. Sometimes even just going, for the sake of going (anywhere, not too far, etc), can feel great! Then you can watch the scene around yourself change, and that can entertain the brain for a long time alone.   
Then realizing that you have this freedom to do this....Awesome!

And flying with the roaring engine, like a thunder, heart racing with the crazy speed - maybe the most exhilarating thing in the world! 

And then it can become....hypnotizing. And a calm, yet observing aura can fulfill and envelope you. And then the thoughts can come. And so, so, so many realizations.   
  
  


For Jason, the "thoughts" stage was present. Powerfully.   
  
  
He loved the ability to travel. Sometimes in the past he had had to do it, and it had been for horrible reasons. But all in all he still loved the chance to get away, to move, to put distance between himself and this or that. No one could stop him, forbid him this, no one could close him in any messed up places.

Not anymore. 

He had this freedom to choose what he wanted, where he wanted to be, and he knew he would never, ever let anyone take this away from him. 

 

His mind couldn't stop to dwell on his dream either. From time to time he felt foolish. Travelling through half of the country to check on...well...what exactly? An edge? The sky?   
Or....  
  
The voice he hadn't heard again since that one time....

He fought like a maniac with himself over that. No, he couldn't be crazy! To just..hallucinate the voice. And it's question.   
And he refused to think that it had been truly just a dream's dreamy part. 

Okay. So, maybe he had to go there to check on something he didn't know about, not yet. Maybe he needed to find out something! 

Maybe he just felt...something. And he was just sentimental, wishing for his soul to find peace after he saw that place in the real world. 

 

Jason truly surprised himself with this journey. It had been such a sudden decision! And a so unfounded one. He never did something like this....

It was mostly for nothing. 

Leaving Gotham behind for a dream, even for a short period of time.....

It should have been funny. 

He couldn't even chuckle on himself, not once, after really getting out of the city. 

 

Because...sometimes.....even a sudden journey could end up as a one-way-travel....

He wasn't even thinking about his death, when he started brooding over this. He mostly thought about how the person coming back could be so different from the one who had left. Or how places could change when you left them behind for awhile. 

He hadn't ever thought about his departure as the final one, when he had left the All Caste......

 

Still, he wasn't planning to give up this strange personal mission. 

 

Probably that was the reason why he still didn't hate the bike, he now had to use. He had to exchange the one he had left Gotham behind with. The guy he'd approached had been shocked by his offer. And then suspiciously happy.   
The red mule he was now riding was reliable, but much slower than he had guessed. 

Anyway, he hadn't had a choice. 

After six hours of silence, the family had found out about...well...whatever. Jason missing or just not being out on patrol or they had wanted something and hadn't been able to find him.  
Whatever.   
After the first fiftytwo calls, he had thrown away his third phone as well (How the Hell they had known about them?), then he had found a way to have a vehicle without trackers. 

At least he could be sure about his clothes. He'd bought them in a cheap, average shop two hours before leaving the city. 

So, he had to be satisfied. He didn't have to buy anything (not that he had any cards with himself  to make himself worry, no thanks), he still was on his way. 

And he had really good reasons to hope that he had a chance for a bat-free voyage. Yay. 

 

Thanks to remembering them, he slowly started a speculation about his truly favourite bike. He had had the foresight to not bring it, so it had been left in safety, out of harm's and exchanges' way. 

Who would have it, after his disappearance? If he...would not make it back...?

He would have liked the idea of Tim keeping it. But, if he wanted to be honest with himself, the lovely beast would actually fit perfectly with Damian. When he would be old enough to drive the machine, of course.  
Which wouldn't happen in the next....five or six years. 

The machine-animal was frightfully strong. 

Maybe Cass or Steph, then. Somehow, Jason could picture them surprisingly easily in the saddle. Cass, with her lethal style. Or Steph with his fierce bravery. 

Well, probably Bruce would forbid everyone to ever take it out.   
Heartbreaking fact. 

Although.....Steph could still be the rider in that case. She didn't give a damn about Bruce's bans most times. 

Or Tim. Replacement was shockingly good at getting what he wanted. All that cold intelligence and perfectionism could be truly fucking scary, especially when it was used (succesfully!) to sneak around - behind the Batman's back....

Anyway, Jason hoped his bike would not end up rotting into a rusty memory of itself somewhere in the darkness of the Cave. It wasn't meant to end up like that. 

He'd loved the terrible power and speed of it. So raw and dangerous and precise in the same time. 

Fitted him too well.

Maybe that was why it was so easy to imagine Bruce never letting anyone else close to it. Jason knew, thanks to a really-really bad slip's happening once right in front of Batman (the skin had been rubbed off in a heartbeat from his left side, after his jacket hadn't been able to protect him at all), that Bruce hated the bike with passion. For Jason himself driving it wasn't prohibited only because Bruce couldn't do anything like that with him. 

It was funny to know how the old man wished for such power over Jason, in vain. 

 

He still couldn't figure out how bad decision it had been to leave without any explanation or a message. 

But he didn't know any ways to explain normally this wish to see that place. And didn't want anyone to think that he was a confused fool. 

 

 

They thought he was crazy. That was enough. Thanks. 


End file.
